


Proposal In Progress

by Scavenge4Dreams



Series: (Mis)Communication Is Key [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Arguing, Established Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Miscommunication, Murphy's Law, Sexy Times, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Tries Really Hard, Steve has the patience of a saint, Sweet, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Is Not Helping, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Why is he like this?, funny?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:40:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23394154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scavenge4Dreams/pseuds/Scavenge4Dreams
Summary: Steve is the man with a plan.   And a ring.Tony is the man who ruins that plan.  Multiple times.      Five times, to be exact.But Steve is determined. He's gonna get a ring on it.Eventually.OrSteve tries to propose to Tony: Shenanigans ensue.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: (Mis)Communication Is Key [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1682770
Comments: 33
Kudos: 125





	1. The Same Page? (Not Even The Same Book.)

**Author's Note:**

> Part one is for the *Slightly Angsty.

They were on the private terrace, the tiny French-inspired courtyard area just barely aglow with the soft illumination of the overhead fairy lighting. Not that it was needed; the overhead full moon was easily bright enough to see to dine.

Flush against the balcony rails, their small table was draped with dark linen, set with a single white pillar candle that flickered gently. Faint strains of delicate music played quietly over the otherwise silent backdrop.

Three years.

Three years had all been leading to this very evening. Or perhaps a lifetime. More.

Three years ago, in an old-style Brooklyn diner, Steve had sat opposite this same man. He'd spent the evening swatting at Tony's hand every time he tried to steal fries from Steve's plate.

Because Tony's _own damn fries_ had been going cold on his plate. 

_It was the principal of the matter._ (And maybe Steve had found the mischievous glint in his eyes and upward twitch of his mouth too damn charming not to encourage.) 

It had started with Tony's usual weekly mission to take Steve somewhere that felt like _home_. Somewhere where nostalgia and familiarity met, leaving Steve relaxed and untroubled.

It had ended up with them making out on a bench in Central Park at 2 am. That had been new.

Steve had decided then and there (or he'd already know) that maybe 'new' wasn't so bad either. The modern era had its perks. 

Three years on, and Tony was again sitting across from him at a small table in an otherwise empty restaurant (although this time it was because 'someone' had booked the place out). 

Steve couldn't exactly say that he was relaxed or untroubled, though.

His hands were sweaty again; he rubbed them against the soft material of his slacks, hoping the darkness of the fabric would conceal any stain his damp palms left.

He swallowed the last morsel of his meal, the spoonful mostly sauce and perhaps altogether too moreish, shifting uncomfortably in his stomach after he forced it down, his muscles tight with unease.

Tony glanced up, his eyes jumping from Steve's empty plate to his own half-eaten dinner. He winced and then gestured towards Steve's empty glass with a subdued "Sorry. More wine?"

And that was why Steve wasn't relaxed and content; because Tony wasn't. 

Smiling softly, trying to alleviate whatever was causing his boyfriend to hover over his meal and pick at it halfheartedly, Steve replied, "I'm good, thanks. No rush, babe- take your time, enjoy it. "

Tony just nodded, ducking his head back to his assigned task, pushing his food around like a four-year-old with a plate of broccoli.

Everything was perfect. The atmosphere, the venue, the food, and service. Even Tony was perfect, despite whatever was bothering him.

Perfect for Steve, anyway.

He tapped his fingers against the small square box that he hoped wasn't outlined too obviously in his pocket. 

In the back of his mind, Steve speculated that Tony had noticed, and that was why he was so uneasy. What if Tony knew what Steve was planning to ask tonight? 

Knew, and didn't know if he wanted to say yes.

Only, Steve was sure of Tony's feelings. Sure of Tony. Knew without a doubt that he wouldn't have a chance in hell of stopping Tony from selling his soul if it would save Steve's.

They'd even talked about marriage, and weddings, and their life together, in a round-a-bout sort of way (Hulk would be the ring bearer, and Fury would officiate). It was all very vague 'one day our future will be-' type conversation, but Steve knew Tony spoke with the same undercurrent of seriousness and expectancy as he did.

So why had Tony barely met his eyes the whole evening? 

He wouldn't know until he asked. 

_Courage, man._

Steve took a deep, steadying breath, reaching across to find Tony's hand with his own, "Tony- "

"Not yet- let's go for a walk!" Tony interrupted suddenly, and Steve nearly swallowed his tongue in his desperation to not continue blurting out his question.

"Wha- Tony? What are you-" Steve stuttered out but allowed Tony to pull him to his feet, his tossed napkin barely landing on the edge of the table as he was tugged toward the door.

"A walk! It's so pretty out here- they have a whole garden and a pretty stream that feeds into a lake, and they have lots of lighting- it's really beautiful-"

Steve resisted gently, using just a fraction of his strength, but the movement still easily drew Tony back to his side, the older falling silent as Steve adjusted their handhold, pulling his wrist from Tony's grasp and linking their fingers together instead. 

Setting them off into the darkness at a slow roam, Steve squeezed the fingers curled around his, voice slightly lecherous, "A secluded walk in the dark, huh? That sounds real nice and romantic-" he swung their hands back and forth, wiggling his eyebrows like a fool, hoping to see Tony-

Relax suddenly, and grin, just a little. 

Steve raised an eyebrow, wondering what on earth was going through his lover's brilliant (but often misguided) mind that his partner acting like a bit of a crumb was something that would reassure.

To Tony's credit, the grounds were simply stunning. Lush foliage all glossy with moonlight, a dark green sheen present in the darkness. Carefully placed lighting reflected off the trickling water of the small stream that meandered through the gardens. The sound of music was lost, replaced with the gentle stir of the overhead trees. The twilight symphony drawing to its close for the evening, the occasional lone insect chirping a last lingering melody.

If anything, this was even more perfect for what Steve had in mind. 

As they'd wandered, Tony's grasp had curled from his hand to the crook of his elbow, and Steve had slowed his stride (this was Tony's go-to-method whenever Steve walked too fast), but Tony had just grinned up at him, leaning in closer. 

His thigh brushed against Steve's leg- with the ring box, and Steve panicked for a second, pushing Tony away slightly. Tony's grin dripped off his face, and he pulled to a stop, pulling his hand free.

"I can't- just, I know-" He took a deep steadying breath, visibly steeling himself, shoulders drawing upward and back straightening, "Just- I can tell you're trying for an easy letdown, but there's no such thing. Just do it."

Steve blinked. 

"Um. What?"

Tony sighed, dragging a too rough hand through his hair, "I'm old stick at this, Steve-"

Now completely and utterly lost, and not in the overly indulgent way that he often found himself when following Tony's ramblings, Steve stepped closer. He reached to curl Tony's hand back into his, squeezing gently as he tried to clarify- "At what?"

Seemingly oblivious to Steve's attempt at restoring the ease of the evening, Tony continued his singular understanding of what was supposedly a two-sided conversation, ignoring his interruption, "-and it always goes a lot smoother if you just-"

"Old stick at _what_ , Tony?" Steve shook their joined hands gently, mind casting about for any reasonable subject matter that could fit this conversation, but coming up empty.

"Um. Dumping me?"

Steve supposed the _reasonable_ really had been asking too much. He stared at Tony, and Tony, for all his bluster that this breakup ( _that was not happening!_ ) was fine, stared over his left shoulder somewhere, refusing to meet Steve's eyes.

Comfort be damned, Steve deliberately unlinked their fingers, tugging his hand away. He needed to be able to place both on his hips to portray appropriate levels of disbelief and incredulity as he questioned, "I'm sorry, _what_!?" 

Tony blinked up at him, non-plussed, his newly free hand settling over his chest center mass, in a much too telling way. Steve was intimately familiar with Tony's subconscious ticks, and this one was all vulnerability and fear. 

_Good_ , because Steve was fucking terrified. This was not at all how his evening was supposed to go. _Breaking up!?_

Tony was still rambling, and Steve tuned back in, in time to hear- "Sorry, sorry- you wouldn't, not like that-" and felt the ice in his stomach melt slightly, his shoulders slumping with relief- 

Until Tony started _rephrasing_ , "Uh- breaking up? Going our own separate ways. Splitting up-"

Something sharp and brittle curled its foul claws into Steve's stomach, creating physical illness beneath his shock. His knees felt weak, chest tight as he forced the words between numb lips, voice dry with utter disbelief, "Tony. Are you breaking up- No." Ducking his head slightly in an attempt to meet his boyfriend's eyes in the dark, Steve clarified, "Do you want to break up with me?"

Tony's fingers stilled their tapping.

"No?" It was voiced as a question, hesitant and unsure, Tony glancing up with something akin to hope. 

The repeated "No" was a definite negative, and Steve took an alarming amount of reassurance from that. His heart even started to beat again. 

Steve had extensive previous experience being utterly baffled by Tony's thought patterns, and he was relieved that this seemed another case of them being not just on different pages, but entirely different books.

He wanted to marry the man, not be contemplating a life without him.

Steve was gathering his exasperated aggravation into a particularly well-suited response (like shaking some sense into him), when Tony shifted uncomfortably, adding quietly, "...That usually doesn't matter, though."

It took Steve a second to follow the statement back to its subject, and only a second longer for his frustration with Tony to soften, anger redirected toward the faceless, nameless damage of Tony's past. 

_Okay, proposal postponed._

_Relationship damage-control, Rogers._

Steve stepped closer as he asked earnestly, only the slightest doubt coloring his tone, "Have I- have I done something, said something that made you think I want to break up?"

Tony blinked, his eyes finding Steve's before skittering away, his muttered "No?" a lot more hesitant than Steve thought warranted. At least 100% more hesitant.

He made a point as such, voice steady and confident as he replied like it should be the most obvious thing in the world, "That's because I don't want to break up, Tony." 

Tony's eyes flew to his, wide with disbelief and Steve couldn't stop the exclamation of his total frustration, "Christ, Tony!"

Tugging his hand free at the rebuke, Tony crossed his arms defensively, stepping back slightly, guarded as always in the face of emotion. Confused skepticism pervaded his answering, "You- you don't?" and frankly, _it was starting to piss Steve off._

"No! No, I don't want to break up! Pretty sure if anyone's gonna know it's me, and I love you, you ignoramus!" throwing his hands in the air for emphasis and drama was entirely warranted, and it seemed quite a natural progression to spin on his heel, stomping several steps away to sulk.

"Oh." The single syllable verbalization hung in the air behind him, and Steve listened intently, sure he could hear the gears turning in Tony's head as he put his considerable genius to work deciphering the current situation.

"Well. That's good. Then. I guess." Was the apparent conclusion of said genius.

" _You guess,_ " Steve muttered quietly to himself, the words almost lost under his breath. He turned again, stomping the three steps back into Tony's personal space as he clenched his hands into fists to resist grabbing his infuriating boyfriend by his infuriatingly tailored collar. 

How had he gone from proposing to apoplectic in thirty seconds? "You guess?! Tony, what possible reason could you have for me to possibly want to break up with you!?" His voice rose a decibel with upset and frustrated anger, absolutely beyond whiplashed by the shift from the most nervous anticipation of his life to-

In the face of Steve's yelling, in direct response to the wall of frustrated, angry supersoldier-

Tony, unafraid, non-confrontational, stepped closer, his hand curling around Steve's bicep as he murmured, "Steve, babe-"

_Only Tony._ Steve had a goddamn ring in his pocket for this infuriating, exasperatingly, _frustratingly_ wonderful man. Instead, he was having a near one-sided argument as Tony looked on, his facial expression guarded and reserved as if at any minute Steve was going to realize he was saying the opposite of what he meant or something equally ridiculous.

"Christ-" Spoken as an exasperated curse or a plea for higher assistance in the face of such vexation, Steve didn't know, but he'd take what he could get. He brushed Tony's hand off his arm as he exclaimed, "You're an absolute pain in the ass!"-

Tony's 'Bambi-in-headlights' eyes snapped to his, and Steve took his partner's undivided total attention, _finally_ and ran with it, stepping aggressively towards Tony. He was rewarded when Tony took an instinctual step backward. Steve pressed closer, another step forward, Tony another step back-

_Damage control._

Steve tilted his head with a sigh, toning down the on the 'predatory stalker vives' with a muttered, "You're _can also be good and kind, and sweet-"_

Thanking his enhanced sight that allowed him to see the way Tony's lips pressed tightly together, his obvious discomfort at the compliments belied by the way his eyes dropped bashfully, slight flush of pink coloring his ears.

Another step and Tony's back hit the tree that Steve had been subtly steering them towards. He added, " _And generous-"_

Stepping close enough that Tony's chest pressed against his when their breaths synchronized, Steve whispered, " _Funny_." 

His eyes were fixed on Tony's face from bare centimeters away, the solar lit gardens reflective in the deep velvet brown of his eyes, shadow throwing his skin into pale relief beneath the moonlight. Lips plump and- 

"And I'm not breaking up with you-" Steve finished, lips brushing Tony's with each word, his exhale on the last syllable weighing warm and heavy between them. 

The tree bark scratched roughly against the back of his hand where he mussed Tony's carefully manicured hair, curls snarled around his fingers as he angled Tony's face upward, kissing him softly, a bare brush of lips-

Before sinking into the kiss to press his tongue between willingly parted lips, crushing their mouths together until they breathed the same air. Tony's hands settled at his waist, fisting into the material of his suit, tugging Steve closer as he pushed back against the tree, rising to his toes to lessen the strain of his neck.

Forcing himself to pull back ( _god knows they can't just make out in the back garden of the little Italian Bistro, but Steve was suddenly having trouble justifying why not),_ he was gratified by the way Tony instinctually chased his lips, even as his eyes opened, slightly hazy and unfocused.

_"You're not breaking up with me?"_ Steve asked, his hands curling over Tony's shoulders - and it wasn't really a question. At least, Tony had better not think it was actually a question-

Tony, though, licked his reddened lips, eyes glassy as he replied, "No. No, I don't think so, actually. I might have been a bit hasty **-** "

Steve kissed him again.

* * *

It was several long minutes before Steve tugged Tony away from the tree and back onto the path, relinking their fingers as he began the winding amble through the darkened walking trails toward the deserted carpark.

With each step, each tug of the material of his trousers, the ring box-pressed distractingly against his thigh. 

Steve's mind raced.

_Should he still?_

"You're mad?" Tony asked into the night silence, only the odd cricket and rustle of vegetation accompanying the crunch of their shoes in the gravel underfoot.

Refreshed nerves had seen him set a pace just that little too fast, and Steve slowed as he answered, "No, I'm not mad. Confused as hell and a bit hurt, but I'm not mad."

Tony squeezed his fingers, a beat of silence hanging in the air between them as they walked, and he began to explain, "I just- this whole week I've been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Because it always does. My three years with Pepper were the longest relationship I've ever been in, and that just- _ended_. Third anniversary, we wined and dined, and I went home alone."

It clicked.

"And this is our third anniversary," Steve deduced the obvious. 

It wasn't often that Steve had cause to regard Virginia Potts with anything other than thankfulness for her steadying loyalty in Tony's life. Even in this instance, Steve was hard-pressed to hold more than a flicker of anger toward Pepper, and that flicker simply because he loved Tony, and she'd had a hand in hurting him. Even if that hurting had been in the interest of less hurting in the future. Even if it had been mutually hurting. She'd still hurt Tony and Steve just-

But then, she'd also built him up, held him together, and taught him it was possible to be loved. It also helped that their breaking up had indirectly led to tonight, Steve trying his best to propose to this infuriatingly wonderful man. 

Tony, oblivious to the ramblingly indulgent thoughts rolling through Steve's mind, was now absently making excuses for himself, "Yep. Sorry, I got a bit carried away. You've been weird all week, and I just- I assumed the worst."

_Tony thought of them breaking up as the worst._

Steve felt just a little bit vindicated by that. Nice to know he wasn't the only one a little stupidly in love.

And then Tony went on to mutter, "I'm sorry I ruined our anniversary-," voice softening with such miserable guilt that Steve just-

_No._

Pulling them to a stop for the second time that evening, beneath the halo of a rare overhead light, illuminating the area as they approached the edge of the carpark, Steve interrupted, "You didn't. You really, really didn't." 

Tony looked up at him with blatant suspicion, and Steve continued," Momentary hiccup at most. You're here, I'm here, we made out against a tree. I'm happy." just trying to make Tony-

Laugh. 

Tony snorted through a stifled giggle, and Steve grinned, relaxing.

Mission accomplished. War (against Tony's insecurities) by no means won, but Steve knew when to celebrate a win.

Something of momentary interest suddenly buzzed his memory, and Steve asked, "... I've been weird all week?"

_Was it really any wonder?_

Unthreading their fingers to curl his arm back through Steve's as they approached the glossy black vehicle waiting in the shadows, Tony replied with an undertone of vindication, "Yes! All twitchy and nervous whenever I catch you looking at me. I just-"

Not interested in how Tony would attempt to justify himself, Steve pressed the truth home, although the way he tugged Tony gently off-balance and nudged his shoulder with a matching smile took the sting from the words, "You jumped to conclusions. Terrible, wrong, incorrect ridiculous conclusions."

"Yes, alright I get it, thank you. Glad we're not breaking up, but you can tell me what's got you all worked up now..." Tony sassed, vulnerability, fear, and insecurity so very obviously returned to the depths of the realm of uncomfortable emotion banishment.

And it was _the perfect opening. Perfect opportunity to grin wide and bashful, to run his hand over the misshapen lump in his pocket. To drop to one knee-_

Steve hesitated.

He needed Tony to remember being asked as a gesture of honesty and sincerity. 

Not a reassurance. 

But, if he wasn't going to ask yet, (and he wasn't), he needed a reason for his apparently squirrelly behavior. 

He couldn't brush it off, because he knew Tony. Knew that:

A. Tony would be like a dog with a particularly juicy bone, or 

B: It would devolve into another crisis of relationship, with Tony assuming he wanted to run off to Texas with the bellman or something. 

_Think fast, Man with a plan._

...It wasn't a lie if it was the truth, right?

Steve coughed slightly, not embarrassed, nor inexperienced, but there was something about just asking such things, in public- 

Swallowing thickly, gaze directed ahead into the softly broken darkness, Steve replied, "Well, there's something I've been wanting to try, and I was hoping- that is, I was thinking...maybe we could try it tonight? Anniversary and all." 

He felt his ears begin to heat as he deliberately avoided the way Tony's face turned toward him in the dark as he deduced Steve's meaning, returning, "Something you've been wanting to try? Like- oh. _Oh_ \- a sex thing?!" Tony crowed, dragging them to a stop to pin Steve with curious, salacious eyes.

Steve blushed scarlet and cast his mind through the huge pile of half discarded, half wet-dreamed Tony fantasies for something aptly scandalous. 

He was going to have to consider the night a win/win anyway, despite the ring still burning a hole in his pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Beta. Feel free to offer constructive Crit on SPAG issues :)


	2. Raincheck

The bark scraped away to leave pale smooth timber beneath, still slightly supple beneath his fingertips, the behemoth tree obviously not long fallen. The tip of his knife very gently pierced the wood and Steve twisted it sideways to have the broader angle of the blade gouge a testing line- 

"Don't mind me-" Tony's disembodied voice echoed from the other side of the large fallen tree, and Steve looked up as an arm appeared, waving nonchalantly in the air as Tony continued, "I'm probably going to die of exposure, or get eaten by a bear- "

"There are no bears." Steve corrected absently, frowning, and turning his attention back to carefully working the knife tip further into the deadwood to begin gently scraping an outline.

"A cougar then. Or a skunk. Whatever- it will be inconvenient and grizzly, lots of screaming. But you just go on with your tree carving. I'm fine-"

Steve smoothed his palm over the newly scraped section, brushing away the shaved timber curls, replying, "I will, thank you. Always wanted to carve my sweethearts initials into a tree-" 

"Pretty sure they had trees in the 40's-" Tony sassed, bare feet appearing on top of the log, crossed at the ankle. 

Steve snorted, casting his gaze skyward for a moment as he considered giving Tony the answer he wanted...

Instead, he scratched around on the ground for an appropriately sharp stick, before stretching up to poke at one of the offending feet, exasperated disbelief apparent as he mocked "I still can't believe you took your shoes off-"

Tony squawked, feet disappearing from range as he replied, " _ I told you  _ the place was traditionally Japanese. Besides, it wasn't like you didn't enjoy carrying me across the field on your back like some wild stallion." 

Brushing a hand over the carved message, Steve considered the artwork for a moment, head tilted as he assessed whether it was as perfect as he thought. It was. 

But...

_Maybe?_

Before he could second guess himself further, Steve scratched the impulsive desire into the tree.

He giggled nervously, quietly-

_ What the hell was he doing? _

Tony, utterly unaware of Steve's little meltdown on the other side of the tree, continued, "...I'm pretty sure you left fingerprints on my ass", his voice petty, although with a complete lack of real irritation, Steve noticed. 

It was a resoundingly stupid idea, he decided. Ridiculous. Impulsive. Absurd. He had _ plans.  _ Plans he'd worked very hard on, that were romantic and thoughtful and memorable and  _ perfect. _

He shoved the knife back into its belt sheath and stood, leaning against the tree to cover his dumb moment of insanity. 

Tony wasn't wrong exactly, about Steve enjoying getting a handful. Still, for appearance's sake, he felt obligated to offer a token justification, "It was either piggyback or bridal carry, your choice."

The silence was Tony's pointed non-reply.

Leaning further over the massive tree trunk to look down at Tony, sprawled on the shaded grass on the far side, Steve asked somewhat incredulously, "...You'd have preferred the tabloids get pictures of Captain America in full spandex racing across a field of wildflowers with a half-dressed Tony Stark draped across his arms, ala 'damsel in distress'?"

Tony, obviously hearing the change in direction and closer distance of his voice, lifted one arm from where they were crossed over his eyes to peer up at him, raising one eyebrow as he pointedly shrugged. 

"You're the actual worst," Steve laughed, crossing his own arms and resting his chin in his hands as he looked down at his chaotically perfect other-half. 

"And this is news, how?" Tony joked, stretching languidly against the soft grass before making grabby hands at Steve to be pulled upright.

Steve wrapped his fingers around outstretched wrists and tugged gently, smoothly dragging Tony into a sitting position, and then further, until he was able to brush words against lips as he whispered, "Just thought it bore reiterating," before pulling Tony into a kiss. 

Relaxed and trusting in Steve's hold despite swaying in an ungainly half crouched position some three feet off the ground, Tony pulled away, slightly breathless as he replied," Well then, I'm just going to reiterate that this is  _ all. your. fault." _

Steve raised an eyebrow, looking down to his own red and blue leather-covered chest, and raking his gaze from Tony's bare feet over the tattered remains of tailored slacks and dress shirt, up to his thoroughly kiss swollen lips, and tangled birds nest masquerading as hair. Deadpan, he replied, "Who would you believe?"

"God, I hate you..."Tony whined, smiling widely as he tugged ineffectively at Steve's hold, demanding, "Shut up and kiss me again."

Steve glanced down at his timber engraved message, and then back up to meet dancing brown eyes, burning bright and inquisitive-

_ Perfect.  _

It had been unplanned, a sudden impulsive giddiness that had him add to the carving, but Steve realized he was actually going to do this. Here. Now.  _ Finally _ .

He dropped Tony on his ass. Gently. Standing upright, he leaned over the tree to leer at his sprawled partner, voice enticing as he teased, "Hate you too, so much. Get over here, and I'll do more than kiss you-" 

_Thor dropping out of the sky completely ruined the mood._

"Someone call for an uber?" The thunder god called in his usual grandiose manner as he crossed the few strides to their side. He rolled his eyes as he took in Tony's obvious dishevelment, and what Steve assumed was his own distinctly unimpressed look at being interrupted.

"That'd be me," Tony said, standing quickly, flinging an arm around Thor's shoulders as he continued, "Sorry, babe- raincheck... the first story is the one believed, and I have minds to influence. Swing your hammer, Lightning McQueen-"

Tony and Thor rocketed skyward with a crackle of energy, Tony's whoop of adrenaline trailing behind like a calling card.

Steve sighed, eyeing the carefully carved motif decorating the felled tree- 

Steve spent the time waiting for Thor's return carving the words ' _Raincheck, he said.'_ below the entwined hearts. 

**Author's Note:**

> I love some motivation to get the muse juice going, so drop me a line if you enjoyed 'Insomniac Dreaming' and/or 'As Easy As...' and are looking forward to '(Mis)Communication'!!
> 
> I have returned! Welcome to the very very very much delayed (very) series three of my Stony Universe. 10 fic(lets) of varying length, genre, and rating, each with a connection to or focusing on Communication (or lack thereof).  
> All, of course, interconnected, although not directly sequential unless otherwise stated. As always, these are all post-Avengers 2012, during happy family building time, pre-heartache.
> 
> Happy Reading :)


End file.
